


A Collection of Short Requests

by heartfeltdisease



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Multi, Requests
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-06
Updated: 2012-04-06
Packaged: 2017-11-03 04:08:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/377017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartfeltdisease/pseuds/heartfeltdisease
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I took Homestuck pairing requests on Tumblr. The results are of varying quality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dave/Nepeta

**Author's Note:**

> Dave/Nepeta for sugaryacid of Tumblr.

As hard as Dave tries, he really can’t find any reason to be enthused about the anime convention. Yeah, he’s playing along for Bro’s sake - he’s dressed up as Pikachu, for God’s sake - but his soul isn’t in it. This isn’t the type of irony he expected from him. It’s too obvious, and Bro looks like he’s having far too much legitimate fun. 

Whatever. It was probably just too much for his small brain to understand. Bro is the sun, and he is a peanut, orbitting the sun like a tiny little Egbert-repellent asteroid, pulled toward it by irony and Cheetoes. 

Unfortunately, he’s been thinking a little too long and paying too little attention to his surroundings - a well placed bounce hug from a fellow congoer knocks him out of his daze.

“PIKACHU!” the girl screams, clinging to him. “Pikachu, you’ve gotta help mew out, as a fellow Pokemon!” She’s wearing some semi-scanty outfit in beige and nearly crawling on his back - aren’t there rules agaisnt this kind of thing? Fixing his sunglasses, he pretends to be completely unphased by the catgirl on him. 

“Alright, Meowth - I think you’re a Meowth, I can’t really tell, because you’re pretty much on me, Jesus, calm down - tell me the problem, this Pikachu will up and motherfucking shock the shit out of your issues, as long as they’re shockable issues. I might have to tackle them-“

The girl seems completely unphased by his rambling speech, and even cuts him off. “This guy’s been following me! It’s making me super uncomfortable, nya.”

“Who’s that gu-“

This guy arrives, fully adorned in Naruto cosplay. His quickly cocky swagger fades when he sees Dave, covered in girl and thick with muscle. “I-is she—” he studders. “with you?”

“Yup, this is my Meowth, caught her myself with an Ultra Ball and the B button. Didn’t even have to weaken her first, I’m the Pokemon Master. Got a problem?”

The Naruto quickly mumbles apologies and wanders away. The girl climbs down quickly and swings around to smile at him. “Sooorry about that! You were purrfect! Thanks!!” She says, giving him a hug. “Would you like to go to the dealer’s room together? We could get some Pocky and Ra-mew-ne, on me!”

Dave gives a small smirk, if only because the girl actually managed to make a cat pun in the word Ramune and the dress she was wearing was pulled down a little in the struggle, revealing a little cleavage. She was pretty _kawaii_ , he could deal with a little diversion with a cute girl. 

He was in a Pikachu costume, he couldn’t really lose any more face.


	2. Terezi/Vriska

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Terezi/Vriska for an anon on tumblr.  
> TW for pedophilia  
> (also really bad but people seem to like it so)

The list is long, but every name on it deserves to be there. They’re a team, the two of them; one spidergirl, one cop, and everyone is happy. Except the criminals. The spidergirl is older than she looks. She’s a trap for the men that the cop hunts and locks up. They run a good business, the two of them.

It still startles Terezi every time, that brashness as she reads through the logs. Vriska’s fiery, with just the right amount of falsified timidity when it comes to sex that catches the men every time.

“Do you ever feel weird about it?”  
“About what?” Vriska said, never looking up from her computer. Her fingers scuttled along the keys, fast and clattering.   
“All those men you flirt up!”  
“I don’t even LIKE men!” She said, cackling. “They’re all perverts, so what does it matter? I snare them, you catch them, world’s a better place, what’s the problem?”  
“Don’t lie to me! You don’t care about justice at all, spidertroll!” Terezi replied, laughing, but it cuts a little too deep. She doesn’t care. She’s just another internet troll, using her sex appeal to entangle people in legal trouble.

Some of the chats she doesn’t report - Terezi finds them when she’s after hours looking for a certain shred of evidence. Some aren’t even with adults - some are teenagers, or people her own age. She tells them her real age and goes along just the same. Some are even kids themselves - at very least, she doesn’t engage in sextalk with them, just rude words and trolling.

People seem to love Vriska. They gravitate towards her, hoping for a little bit of that charisma, but instead getting eaten. Terezi hopes that, because they’re teammates, she won’t end up the same way when Vriska winks at her.


	3. John/Rose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John/Rose for miracleshoujo of Tumblr.

EB: make sure you're there for me at the airport!  
EB: if you live there, the place is sure to be a labyrinth   
TT: But John, I don't reside in the airport.  
TT: I suppose it is a possibility, though; their wireless connection is passable, and there would certainly be enough to drink for my mother. Maybe we should consider it?  
EB: you know what i mean!   
EB: just - you make everything confusing.  
EB: just be there, okay?  
TT: Alright.   
TT: Have a good trip. Fly like an eagle.

You are Rose Lalonde, and you are currently trying to play it cool. You're not quite sure if you're succeeding, considering you just told your long-standing crush to "fly like an eagle." In fact, you're pretty sure you're doing a pretty inelegant flip off the handle right now.

There are many reasons for that. One of them is the fact that your mother is already drunk, drunker than usual - she even tried to talk to you over lunch, something she hasn't done in a while, but it ended in mumbles and her passing out in her grilled cheese. You're not sure why she chose today for such revelry, but you  _are_ sure that it's not boding well for John's visit, the visit you've been waiting for for years. 

With as much grace as you can muster - your hands are starting to tremble - you decide to confront your next problem. Your room is currently a terrible mess. There are clothes on the floor. Your bed is unmade and the fitted sheets are coming off in one corner. The bunny you've had since you were a child is sitting right on your pillow, starting you down - you've meant to fix it and give it to him, but you haven't yet, that'll need to be hidden - and your desk is covered in rough drafts of wizard slash. There is no way you'd let John in here, even if his room is ten times worse. That's part of his charm. Part of your charm, you think, is being together, which you are most certainly not at the moment. 

The last hits you when you try to pick up the bunny to hide it in your closet - the last problem is that you're absolutely overwhelmed by the fact you're seeing this goofy, incredible guy you've liked forever. You're  _seeing him. Alone. Today._ It seems unreal. You can almost imagine him here already, coming in the door, laughing at your stories and sitting next to you on your bed. You can almost imagine, kissing him - you're 16, it's your first kiss - and it's wonderful, the best, he's kind (he's not) and funny (not really) and he's _John -_

Your mother pushed a note under the door with a knock, footsteps plodding away. You look at it.

_Condoms in the liquor cabinet. I'll be in the observatory all night. xoxo Mom_

You are Rose Lalonde, and you have absolutely have lost your cool.


	4. Dirk/Dave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dirk/Dave for my girlfriend (equinasty of tumblr)  
> TW for incest  
> I really don't know what this is, but there's some crossdressing involved because why not

He thinks he sees Rose from the corner of his eye, lurking in the shadows like she always does, and so he turns to her. “Hey Rose, wanna hear this rap? I’ve been working on it for a while, been trying to work out all the details, make it the best rap in all of paradox space so I can… eh you know what, how about not, let’s just get some coffee, maybe I’ll talk this over with you never.”

Rose says nothing, but she seems to stir, skirts bustling a little. He leans on the table, pushing the heavy theasaurus out of the way - as much as he hates to admit it, he needs it to compose the more complicated raps. He’s sure Rose understands - she sure as hell used one at some point, with the vocabulary on that girl. “Look, I’m not going to spill just because you stand there quiet. It’s none of your goddamn business what I’m writing this rap about, sister or not. Or why I’m writing it for my bro, really it’s no one’s business, shit I just said it! Look, look, let’s just make some coffee? This is some really shitty coffee, but hey, it’s got caffeine and shit, you could even put some sugar and creme in it if you want, but I bet you don’t. I bet you drink it black because black is the color of your soul, the exact shade and hue—” 

“Dave,” says Rose, and he suddenly realizes he isn’t talking to Rose. He’s talking to someone with a voice he knows very well, even in a younger incarnation. To be cliche, his blood turns to ice.

“Bro?”

He comes out, clad in a purple dress. It’s the kind Rose used to wear on Derse - you remember it. Those are times you’d be hard-pressed to forget. The question is;

“Why are you wearing a dress?”

“There are many reasons why I could be wearing a dress. I could just like dresses. I could be doing it for ironic reasons. Or, it could be Roxy’s idea of a wonderful prank.” He says, voice smooth and arranged as ever. “The answer is the last one, but really, all of them are quite acceptable in any case.” Dirk shifts to the side, leaning on the wall - from this angle he can see Bro legitimately has a Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff tattoo, is this real life - and looks as smug as someone possibly could look without smiling. “Why are you in that ugly cape?”

“Dude, don’t diss the cape,” he says feebly, but Dirk is striding towards him, absolutely no falter in his gait despite the trailing fabric. Dave backs further onto the desk, face flushing as Dirk invades his personal space with no thought even of it’s existence, pulling off his shades to look into his eyes -

“Dave,” he says. It is pitch silent as Dirk gently rests his hands on his chest, face inches apart.

“You’re taller than me.”

He can feel the dreambubble start to slip, the place start to shake. Something about his brother’s face seems sad. His hands - oh god, are they trembling? Dave can’t tell, he’s trembling too, wondering how in the world his brother can be so serious in a dress, he has no sense of time or place or anything but - reach up to touch his face, and he reaches his face up to his. 

Their lips barely touch as Dave falls back into waking, like emerging from water.


	5. Rose/Dave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rose/Dave for my girlfriend (equinasty of tumblr)  
> TW for incest

In the night, you wake up in this purple place they seem to call Derse - you dodge the strange residents, but you’ve picked up that much from your spying. Dave is across from you, sleeping peacefully whether he’s awake or not in real life. Sometimes he stands up and draws on the walls, and you watch him silently, but most of the time he lays in bed.

You don’t mind that. Watching him sleep is oddly calming - sometimes you even remove his shades to look at his eyelashes, long and almost girlish, a beautiful strawberry blond color, delicate and pretty. You like them. You like him. He’s warm, and sometimes you lay down next to him and close your eyes as well, taking in the ambient noise of Derse, so different from Earth.

Sometimes you paint his nails in colors you find under your bed, like everything else you ever wanted. Sometimes you sit and read him your stories. Sometimes you tell him to wake up. You shake him and shake him and nothing happens, you pull at his beautiful eyelids to see his red, red eyes and nothing happens, he won’t wake up until it’s time. All you’re doing is messing with him - not that he’d feel it, no one feels anything on Derse when they’re on Earth - 

“I’d like to meet you.” You say sometimes. “While you’re awake. I want to hear you spout that ridiculous drivel you call rapping.” That’s all you say, even though he’s asleep and can’t hear you. You don’t add how you love his words on Pesterchum, how every message sends you somewhere uncomfortable, how you psychoanalyze him for something, anything, that symbolizes some attraction for you, his sibling. You don’t say anything like that.

You don’t even kiss his sleeping form. That would be creepy. Instead, you sigh and ruffle his hair in a way you’re sure he’d hate. It’s an empty gesture. There’s nothing of the boy you like to tease here.


End file.
